Longest Short Story Novelas e Histórias

So I powered my phone off so I wouldn't be as tempted to read anymore and climbed into bed. I turned the lamp off and pulled a pillow to my chest. It was a long time before I fell asleep, and then I woke up just a few hours later from a nightmare where Rob was trying to kill me. I turned the lamp on and paced the floor. I turned my phone back on and had ten more texts from Rob.

"You've always dreamed of stargazing in Omaraine, right? After the party, how about we go there, just the three of us?" The peaks of Omaraine's Green Mountain soared over 2000 meters high, a perfect canvas for the stars. It was Jessica's dream destination. However, that dream felt hollow then, especially after the email she received yesterday from Brittania. "Mrs. Sullivan, it's with deep regret that I must tell you, the observatory has confirmed your blue star is set to fall in three days." The love once believed to be unbreakable was then scarred and battered. Even the stars, once thought eternal, were on the brink of collapse.

It doesn't help that we just had to turn the clocks back an hour for daylight saving, so now it’s already dark at five o’clock in the evening. Jon's Auto Shop is one of only two shops in the small town of Randleman, North Carolina. This is where I grew up and have lived my entire life. I want to leave, but I have nothing to leave for. I'm twenty-three, 5'5" with shoulder-length golden brown hair and hazel eyes. I'm not bad to look at in my opinion, but when all the eligible bachelors are men you've grown up with, it kind of decreases the options in the dating pool.

The lust between Dorian and the woman grew, until strangely Dorian thought he actually felt love. The dragon was about to do something drastic. Its schlong now hardened even more, to its ridiculous full length. It seemed to be at least 15 inches, with big scaly nuts, which looked like oversized grapefruits as they hung beneath him menacingly. Its cock sprang up like a snake between the woman’s legs, but instead of going to the front where her welcoming pussy waited, it edged its way towards the back.

“Then maybe that’s your answer.” Later that night, Ryan stood by his window. The streetlights blurred in the distance. His inbox pinged again a reply from L. Tansey, offering a call. He didn’t answer yet. Instead, he opened a blank page. And he typed: “A Story That Doesn’t Belong To You” by Ryan Calloway He stared at the title for a long moment. Then under it, he wrote: “This isn’t a story about revenge. It’s about reclaiming.” Two weeks later.

There was one solitary, big book on a low table between them. "The title of the tale is The Binding of Autumn," he began, his voice an entrancing whisper just in harmony with the shriek of the fire. “It's the tale of a harvest god who offers a mortal woman a choice: one night of absolute freedom for one year of unimaginable riches for her people." He didn't move as his eyes met hers. "The consent is the matter at hand. It must be freely bestowed, not coerced, and whispered three times into the skin of his throat." “Do you have any idea what sort of story you're going to be reading me tonight?”

Hey loves! 🖤 So… Daddy's Best Friend. Oh God forgive me. If you made it to the end of this one, first of all, are you okay? Because I am not okay and I wrote it. Maverick Cole has absolutely no right being that man and yet here we are. This was a three chapter short story and I wanted every single chapter to hit. If you loved this one, please drop your rating and leave a comment because it genuinely means everything to me as an author.

~Daisy~ The morning the story breaks feels like the floor has dropped out from under me. I’m standing in my tiny kitchen in nothing but Aragorn’s oversized black hoodie, waiting for the kettle to whistle, when my phone starts vibrating across the counter like it’s possessed. One notification. Two. Ten. Twenty. I pick it up with damp fingers and the headline slams into me. ~~PRINCE ARAGORN’S MYSTERY WOMAN REVEALED: LOCAL FLOWER SHOP OWNER DAISY HARLOW CAPTURES THE HEIR’S HEART~~

“I have my moments.” We talk about everything except football—travel horror stories, worst interviews we’ve done (theirs are better than mine), the general absurdity of adult life. Harper tells a story about accidentally interviewing the wrong athlete at the Olympics—fifteen minutes in before anyone realized. Sloane talks about the time she got stuck in an airport for three days covering a story that fell through. I tell them about the teammate who thought “per diem” was a type of pasta. It’s easy. Natural. The kind of conversation that makes hours feel like minutes.

A pair of arms wrapped around me, and I instantly settled into the familiar embrace as both of us watched the sun set over our kingdom. I couldn’t help the squeal of delight that escaped my mouth. I had finally completed my book, 1001 Dark Tales. The look on my editor’s face was one of disbelief when I announced I was stopping all other books to focus solely on that one. I guess writing 1001 Dark Tales takes a long time, four years to be exact. Still, I had written enough books with the help of my quill that I had more than a steady income.